


Matters of Cleanliness, Godly and Otherwise

by prairiecrow



Series: The "KnightFall" Knight Rider Future AU [2]
Category: Knight Rider (1982)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Clothing Kink, Companionable Snark, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Height Kink, M/M, Robot Sex, Sentient Starship, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twenty-third century version of KITT has numerous advantages, one of which is that he's able to fit easily into a shower with room left over for company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

After a rousing bout or two of sexual intercourse in their starship's luxurious master bed, KITT-as-humanoid habitually indulged himself in a couple of hours of idleness, simply watching Michael sleep: a non-productive activity in any practical sense, but he had to admit that he enjoyed contemplating the human's silly little _I've just gotten laid to within an inch of my life_ smile, watching it gradually fade to an expression of sleek sensual contentment and deep physical repose. Every aspect of the human, from handsome face and soft black curls to smoothly contoured muscles and musky masculine scent, filled KITT with profound satisfaction, and it was only with reluctance that he would eventually disentangle himself from Michael's embrace and head for the shower, to wash his artificial skin and hair clean of all excess traces of human bodily fluids. 

Most of the time Michael, well and truly played out, would continue to sleep for another few hours — but on occasion he would realize on a subconscious level that KITT had taken his leave, wake up, and come looking for his partner with the goal of slipping in some more intimate interaction. Which was how he'd ended up stepping into the shower behind KITT on this particular late evening, naked and hopeful and already half erect: really, if KITT ever felt in need of a scientific grant he could propose a study on how a single human male with only Level Delta-1 enhancements had come to possess so much sexual stamina. 

" _Again_ , Michael?" He had just gotten thoroughly wet under the water stream and hadn't even begun to employ the soap yet, which was definitely a new record.  

Wearing only a grin, which KITT had to admit suited him singularly well indeed, he plucked the bar of Castille soap out of KITT's right hand and began to work up a lather between his own fingers. "C'mon, you remember how much I enjoyed shower sex back in the 1980s, right?" 

KITT scowled, and would have folded his arms if he hadn't been waiting to get the soap back. "Yes, and six and a half days ago, and two weeks ago, and in that hotel back on —" 

"You complain," he smirked, meeting KITT's gaze in their reflection on the glass wall in front of them, "but I seem to recall you had a pretty good time yourself on every occasion." 

"Oh, I'm not denying that. However —" He accepted the bar of soap as Michael handed it back to him and began to work up a lather of his own. "— there really is a time and a place for —" Then Michael's hands curved around his neck, massaging with firm sensuous pressure, strong thumbs applying precise force to his artificial spine in a way that aroused all sorts of less-than-innocent associations and distracted him from the task at hand, as well as causing his verbal delivery to falter ever-so-slightly. "— for, well, everything…" 

Michael's smirk became so smug that KITT would have been profoundly annoyed if he hadn't been so busy processing streams of positive internal feedback. "Oh, really?" the human purred, reaching down with one hand to give himself a couple of encouraging strokes before stepping in very close indeed, sandwiching his now full erection between his own belly and the small of KITT's back, returning his persuasive grip to KITT's slender neck. "I suppose you're going to give me a lecture about how my timing could use a bit of improvement." 

"Well, it _could,_ " KITT declared virtuously, continuing to meet Michael's gaze in the glass and deliberately not looking down at his own groin, which wasn't yet reacting only because he was overriding that component's flow feedback processes.  

Michael grinned outright in a way that suggested he knew full well what was going on inside KITT's processor and ran slow, slippery, bubble-trailing hands down KITT's torso: the teasing stroke of thumbs over his collarbones, firm palms over his chest, an electric pinch of his nipples, down the smoothly sculpted plane of his stomach… and accompanying those caresses, a growl infused with pure sex: "God, I wish you would — you're hot as hell when you get all fastidious on me." The flex of his cock against KITT's back lent an emphatic punctuation mark to the sentiment. 

"We can discuss your kinks later," KITT rebuked him with a narrow backward glance, but he permitted the left corner of his own mouth to quirk upward four millimetres in a signal which conveyed the opposite message. "Right now I'd rather get clean, if you don't mind?" 

"I used to give you car washes all the time." A teasing rub on his belly, tracing the hollow of his navel, then gliding to the sides, and down — and inward, to warmly cup below and enclose in a firm grasp above, making KITT forget all about working the soap. The input was unequivocal, flow feedback process suppression be damned. "And I made every inch of you gleam, _if_ you'll recall." 

"Irrelevant," KITT countered… but he reached to his right to set the soap aside in its holder, and tipped his head back against Michael's chest, and closed his eyes as the human's skillful slippery touch lit up his process paths like a hundred Solstice trees. "Considering that rendering me immaculate is… the furthest thing from your mind right now…" 

"Uh-oh," Michael murmured, almost laughing, "you've figured out my cunning plan! Did I mention that I find intelligence pretty damned sexy too?" 

"For a primitive," KITT noted, smiling thinly as he reached back to clasp the human's thighs in both hands, then slowly rocking his pelvis to apply slick pressure to Michael's cock behind him before thrusting his own erection forward into those hotly clasping fingers, "you occasionally display an amazingly refined sense of taste." 

"I've had the best teacher." He ducked his head to apply a quick light kiss to KITT's wet forehead, then released the sim's now very much engaged genitalia to take hold of his hips, urging him to turn around. "Now c'mere, and let me show you that being clean isn't all it's cracked up to be…" 


	2. Chapter 2

Michael knew that look — supercilious, prissy, cooly patronizing and archly superior — because it was an expression that was practically KITT's default, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than getting hands-on and messing it up completely. Sometimes he had to talk a pretty good game to manoeuvre KITT into the right position, but the hard work was always worth it because the sight of his partner's poised facade beginning to crack and eventually coming utterly undone was absolutely glorious.  

On this occasion the AI had put up a bit less of a fight than usual: he was fully erect in Michael's hand, and for a heartbeat after kissing his smooth pale forehead Michael just gazed at their shared image in the mirrored wall, savouring the sight of KITT's trim body leaning back against his own so willingly, streaked with white soap-film being swiftly washed away by rivulets of hot water that intimately traced every elegant angle and hollow of his slender male form. The simulator's eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted in a faint smile that suggested he still wasn't entirely sold on this idea but was willing to play along for the moment, just to see where Michael would end up going. The spectacle of his cock was particularly arresting as far as Michael was concerned: slim, rosier than the rest of his alabaster skin where it peeked between Michael's darker clasping fingers, with a lovely plump head that made Michael's mouth practically water with memories of the scent of it, its taste, its silky texture between his lips and over his tongue. _Definitely_ worth all the hard work, even if the lyrical cries KITT uttered while most intensely stimulated were not sounds that would have emerged from a human throat — in fact, their alien character was what made them so hot, in Michael's considered opinion. 

This body was only a vessel for the Gestalt's consciousness, no more fundamentally "him" than the starship that surrounded them — but to Michael this simulator would always be KITT in a way that nothing else could, except perhaps the original automobile body that had been decommissioned and destroyed centuries previous... and KITT's original form had never come close to filling him with this much lustful fire, a consuming desire to stroke and open and lick and bite and penetrate until KITT was moaning words that under ordinary circumstances he wouldn't admit to even knowing, much less being able to articulate so clearly in the heat of illicit passion.

Plus this vessel had the advantage of being able to fit inside a shower stall with room left over for amorous company — but when KITT turned at his urging, slipping both arms around his waist and leaning against him with a challenging upward glance of those ruby-in-ebony eyes, Michael promptly ran headlong into the usual logistical problem: KITT was a good ten inches shorter than he was, which meant that their sexual organs were practically in two different time zones and mouth-to-mouth kissing was out of the question without a little second-hand assistance. It was a problem they'd figured out how to solve long ago, but still —  

"We've gotta put a permanent step-stool in here," Michael muttered against the top of KITT's head, pulling him even closer and running water-slick hands hungrily over his shoulders and down his back, to grip and squeeze his small tight buttocks.  

KITT, in between licking and nibbling at his right nipple in a way that made him bite back a groaned curse, pointed out: "The nearest stool… is in its usual closet… down the hall, to the left of the shower ward and around the —" 

Michael paused in groping and kneading. "Me? How come _I_ have to go —?" 

"Because you're the one who wants a sexual encounter," KITT pointed out reasonably, "whereas I can take it or leave it at this point." The way his hands had slid down to grope in turn suggested otherwise — or perhaps he was simply providing a bit of additional incentive. 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Fine, Mister Lazybones…" 

"I'll have you know that my skeleton is Grade A-prime triple kevlar-bonded steel, and don't worry — I'll keep the shower warm while you're gone." 

Another eye-roll, but he let go and started to pull away. "Artificial skin rated to one hundred degrees Kelvin and he makes _me_ run through the ship's hallways naked…" 

KITT looked up at him, eyes agleam with wicked good humour. "Have I mentioned the fact that you're adorable when you scamper?" 

"I'll get you for this," Michael warned darkly, turning toward the force curtain.  

"And I look forward to the earth-shattering fury of your vengeance." He administered a light smack of his open hand to Michael's left buttock as he stepped through the force curtain, making the human yelp and execute a little skip. "But right now I'd appreciate less talk and more fetching." 

He snagged a towel from the nearest rack and wound it around his middle, still grumbling − but now with a hopeful upward inflection: "Thought you said you weren't that interested…?" 

"What can I say? I find the sight of goosebumps arousing." 

He cast a dire glance toward the ceiling-mounted security cam through which KITT-as-starship was surveilling him simultaneously with those keen humanoid eyes, and finished tucking in the end of the towel with more force than was strictly necessary. "Next time we're leaving the step-stool right here in the corner."  

The sim's eyebrows elevated sharply. "We most certainly will not!" 

Almost at the door, Michael paused and, with an audible sigh, turned back to study KITT's stern expression. "Because…?" 

"Because this is a working starship," KITT said primly, "and I will _not_ have items out of place on _my_ decks!" 

He hazarded a cheeky smile. "Even if it means more of the old in-and-out?" 

Another disapproving look from beneath more emphatically lowered eyebrows. "You're not an invalid, Michael, and if you can't be bothered to walk ten metres than maybe —" 

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, fine — I get the message! If I want your ass, I've gotta work for the privilege. Duly noted." Then even more sarcastically: "Anything else I can do for you while I'm out here?" 

KITT cocked his sleek head to his left, finely drawn eyebrows tightening fractionally. "Well, now that you mention it the manifold intake on the secondary impulse drive has been making a rather disquieting buzzing noise during —" 

"I was thinking more along the lines of… never mind, I'm going. But you'd better make it worth my while." 

KITT smiled. It wasn't that different from his usual slight smiles, but there was a definite edge to it — a hot, sweet, overtly promising edge — that made Michael's rather disgruntled half-erection thicken to full attention almost instantly. "Oh, I will," the sim purred, turning around to look up into the fall of water again and reaching for the soap, pausing only for a sly sidelong glance over one shoulder that brought a thin film of hot sweat leaping to every square inch of Michael's skin. " _If_ you make it snappy." 

Michael made it double-plus snappy, and as usual KITT proved as good as his word — and much, much better besides.


	3. Chapter 3

External shield discharges oscillated within predicted parameters as KITT-as-starship plied his way through the Chaldean Deep en route to the HR7578 System, his intakes funnelling nonbaryonic dark matter as he proceeded at T-Factor 2.75, the maximum safe speed for traversing one of the interstellar Deeps in fuel harvesting mode. He found the hiss and sizzle of random active electromagnetic strings across his hull to be softly soothing, not nearly as exciting as the sharp crackle of high-speed transit through the White Zones but nonetheless rather musical in its own quiet way. It was a pity that Michael lacked the sensory equipment to share his pleasure, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that the cloned human was capable of experiencing enjoyment with him in so many other ways. 

Case in point: this particular sexual interlude, when his humanoid simulator was engaged with Michael in one of the starship's shower ward stalls. Michael had come back with the step-stool with commendable swiftness, and as soon as he was able to coax KITT's sim up onto it he'd spent a gratifyingly long time running his hands over every centimetre of artificial skin he could reach, paying special attention to the pelvic area and engaging in mouth-to-mouth play with an enthusiasm that was truly contagious. Watching through his security cameras and listening to Michael's sighs and moans through two separate audio input systems, KITT had to admit that he was extremely good at what he was doing, and furthermore that he was dedicated to ensuring his partner's pleasure in a way that made Brantin Miles' miserly performance suffer even more by comparison.  

This slice of time, for example: pressing KITT's smaller frame back against the shower wall and adoring his mouth with slow deep kisses, left arm wrapped tightly around his slim waist, the other hand curved under the sim's left thigh to hitch his leg up over Michael's hip in a way that pressed their erections into even closer contact. Watching his smaller body's hands tracing the human's contours of muscle and bone under the spray of hot water, burying elegant fingers deeply in his damp dark hair to pull him nearer still, KITT was amused to recall Calra Bet'Nor's comparison of their different body sizes to a sleret hound taking up with a nar-rabbit, and the way that Michael had nearly snorted chaira tea out his nose when she'd offered to procure a taller sim for their use. _Thanks but no thanks,_ he'd asserted once he'd gotten his breath back: _I like KITT fine just the way he is!_ And he'd certainly gone out of his way to prove it on nearly every night during the three months, two weeks and five days since, occasional problems with finding KITT something suitable to stand on aside. 

Or this moment: down on his knees, his large hands gently spreading KITT's thighs open, his face buried between them to pay special attention to the areas that Brantin had ensured were modified for extra sensitivity. KITT-as-humanoid tipped his head back against the shower wall and sank his fingers deeper into Michael's hair, letting appropriate cries wend their way free as that hot agile tongue stroked over his testicles, the hollows of his thighs, his perineum — and further back, to lick along the crease and deeper, probing and penetrating in short shallow thrusts. It wasn't the most convenient angle for anal stimulation, at least not for the giver, and KITT had to give Michael extra points for effort. 

Or this: pulling back to address KITT's erection, using tricks with teeth and tongue that generated little whimpers ("God, I love it when you make that sound…!") before turning him around with that same gentleness, so strong yet so tender, and pressing him flat to the wall, and going back to work with his tongue — kissing and licking and spreading open and tickling and licking deeper, and pushing inside, and making KITT-as-Gestalt almost forget about the discharges across his outer hull for the white-hot sensations singing inside the body of a robot that weighed 0.134% of his total inhabited mass.  

Muffling his cries against his forearm, KITT-as-humanoid meanly reflected that if Brantin could see them now the KnightFall chief would be spitting nails, knowing that tech he'd had installed for his own selfish amusement was being used in a way that celebrated a truly loving connection. Not for the first time, KITT-as-Gestalt pondered the potential and undoubtedly explosive effects of sending a 3D encoding of this sexual encounter back to KnightFall on Brantin's private channel —  

— but then Michael was kissing his way over the sim's buttocks and up his back, each touch of his lips a mark of fire. KITT-as-humanoid, recognizing the signals conveyed by depth and pitch of breathing, and by the speed of the pulse he could feel wherever their bodies touched as well as through his shipboard sensors, kept his thighs open and turned his head to offer his partner a narrow flash of a smile, wordlessly conveying his approval.  

"Good enough?" Michael smirked against the sim's ear, taking firm hold of his narrow hips. 

"I suppose it will do," KITT murmured as if thoroughly unimpressed. 

"Well, I'm real sorry to hear that," Michael drawled, "after all my hard work." He stepped forward to press KITT to the wall with the weight of his own body, nestling his rampant erection in the crease between the sim's trimly rounded buttocks. "Sure there's nothing I can do to change your mind?" 

It would have been the work of a second to push Michael off him, pick the human up bodily and throw him seven meters out the door, into the wall of the corridor outside the shower ward — even while standing on a step-stool in a wet shower enclosure. Instead he let his eyes drift closed and drew a slow deep breath, stretching just enough to make his captivity felt. "Mmrrrrr, it may be that there is…" 

A soft kiss on the rise of his left shoulder and a grave promise: "I'm open to suggestions." 

He opened his eyes just enough to look back, sidelong, letting new fire flare in his crimson irises. "Michael?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Shut up and fuck me," he growled in his deepest velvet purr.  

Michael grinned wolfishly. "Whatever you say, pal," he acceded in a matching tone of voice, evidently content for once to simply follow orders. 

************************************ 

Back in bed eleven minutes later, finally and gratifyingly clean, KITT-as-humanoid held his lover close and was cradled close in turn, his head resting on Michael's shoulder while frail-boned fingers combed lazily through the unwontedly chaotic spikes of his ebony hair, sometimes idly tracing the pencil-thin line of the black beard that ran along the edge of the sim's jaw to the small sharp triangle of finer hair at his chin. Michael was wearing that unabashedly satiated smile again, every vital sign that KITT-as-starship could detect telegraphing his utter contentment.  

"Three times in one night," KITT remarked against the rise of the human's bare chest. 

"Mm?" Michael inquired, his eyes already closed. 

"That's an unusual achievement even for you. What's the occasion?" 

"Mm." Michael's smile became a happy grin of reminiscence. "That new suit you wore when we met with the Xantian contingent this morning. It did the nicest things to your figure — half the delegation was watching you walk across the conference room at one point, admiring your sweet little ass." 

"I'll have to keep that tactic in mind for future negotiations," KITT-as-humanoid noted wryly, snuggling a little closer to drape himself over his partner's side amid the warm tangle of sheets. Michael chuckled softly, sliding one hand down for a final companionable pat and squeeze of said shapely set of buttocks. And KITT-as-starship sped on, scanning the path ahead with his parsecs-spanning gaze and humming, deep in his nuclear core, with a satisfaction that transcended the merely human faculty of the spoken word. 

THE END 


End file.
